


Not Anymore

by elem (elem44)



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-07
Updated: 2012-01-07
Packaged: 2018-08-16 16:31:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8109562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elem44/pseuds/elem
Summary: A story of J and C in the twilight years of their lives.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the VAMB Secret Santa 2011. My request was from Shayenne. A story of J and C in the twilight years of their lives. This was the second of two fics I wrote for this request – the muse was being generous. Just a warning; this is a little sad but it is full of love and in the end, that’s what really matters.
> 
> As always, thank you to my marvellous beta, Kim J. Hugs.

Kathryn sat across from him, her eyes following his movements as he swayed to the music only he could hear; a small smile softening her lips. He was still a handsome man, he always would be in her eyes; the handsomest man she’d ever met. She used to tease him about that once upon a time, but not anymore.

He looked up with startled eyes.

“Where’s Kathryn?”

“I’m here, Chakotay. It’s me.”

They had this conversation twenty times a day. Sometimes she could convince him that she was Kathryn and at other times he obstinately refused to accept that the old woman holding his hand was the Kathryn he thought he remembered. But it didn’t matter, not anymore; it hadn’t for a long time. He was still her Chakotay and he always would be. Whether he recognised her or not, he still loved Kathryn. It was the one truth that had remained a constant throughout his illness and the gradual deterioration of his mind.

The disease had taken a slow and circuitous route; they’d laughed off the momentary lapses and occasional bouts of forgetfulness as the usual rigors of old age, but the sensory tremens that had afflicted his grandfather – the insidious degenerative illness that had so terrified Chakotay as a young man – had finally taken hold. The poison ivy of a disease had wrapped its tendrils around his higher brain functions, slowly strangling his mind, heart and soul, leaving behind only a shell.

She’d been mad with grief at the beginning, they both had, and to this day Kathryn didn’t know which was worse – knowing that she was going to lose him or that he knew that he was going to lose himself. It was something that he’d always feared and in the cruellest realization of that nightmare, it had come true. The only godsend was that now he had no insight – no memory or recollection of the man he’d once been or the life he’d led. The only thing he remembered was that he loved Kathryn. In the world of fog and shadows he inhabited, it was the one solid thing that he held onto and if he could do it, so could she.

She would hang on like grim death, ferociously clinging to that one hope, that one sliver of light in the darkness, greedily grasping at those precious moments when he turned to her with recognition in his look; eyes brimming with love and joy at her presence. She would keep those moments safe in her memory – it was her responsibility now, to remember for both of them. It wasn’t too much to ask. He would do the same for her if their roles were reversed; she knew that without a shadow of a doubt.

He was staring at her now, his beautiful dark eyes devoid of recognition, a glint of suspicion and fear hovering in their depths. “Where’s Kathryn? I need to see Kathryn.”

She reached for his hand and holding it gently, she pressed it against her cheek. It was something he’d always done, a private gesture that spoke to her heart and came to represent their deep commitment and love. When they were younger she’d asked him why he always caressed her in that way. He’d explained that for so long he’d dreamed of them as lovers and that he needed to make sure that she really was there; that it wasn’t just a dream. It was his insurance policy – but not anymore.

It was hers now. When he touched her, Kathryn could almost forget the ravages of the disease and time, and remember the Chakotay of yesteryear. She could relive his touch, the loving caresses, remember his strong body, his gentle hands and the moments of exquisite beauty and heart-stopping joy that they’d shared throughout their life together. She’d never imagined that it would end like this. They’d been so entwined, so much a part of each other that the loss had left her bereft; the ache of loneliness sometimes almost too much to bear, but then she would look at him and the memories would rush into the void; a swirling, joyous flood of them, filling the emptiness to overflowing and, revived, she was able to go on. She had to, there was no other choice; she loved him and always would.

Not too long ago, the Doctor had made the almost fatal mistake of suggesting that they admit Chakotay to a facility – ‘somewhere where he could be properly cared for’. She’d rounded on the EMH so swiftly and with such venom that Tom swore to this day that he saw his matrix waver under the onslaught. It had never been mentioned again.

She had help. The crew – what remained of them – were always on hand, Tom, B’Elanna and especially Tuvok. The elderly Vulcan spending hours reading to his old comrade, retelling stories of the old days, reciting memories and logs; his quiet steadiness quelling the emotional upheavals brought on by the disease. The bond between them stronger now than it had ever been.

Starfleet provided assistance as well, but the bulk of his care still fell to Kathryn. Sometimes she was the only person he would allow near and even though he didn’t recognise her or know her name, on some fundamental level, he knew she was special to him and that she loved him.

His fingers traced along her cheek now, his thumb grazing her lips. The gesture so much a part of him and so deeply embedded in his being, that his hand knew what to do even if his mind didn’t comprehend the meaning.

Kathryn smiled and kissed his palm. “I love you.”

Chakotay smiled in return. His craggy face crumpling into a broad grin, his dimples deeply etched, his face now leaner and gaunter than in his youth but his eyes sparkling with recognition. “I love you too, my Kathryn.”

Without breaking the physical connection, she moved to sit beside him, tucking herself against his side, her head on his shoulder, as he draped his arm around her and held her tight – just like he used to do. Closing her eyes, she breathed deeply. This starburst of recognition would last only a moment but it was enough for now. It would tide her over until the next time. She would hold it in her heart, this precious jewel of a moment, cherishing it and seeping her soul in the joy of it, enough that she would be able to continue to live with the loss.

He’d once told her that his love for her had no bounds, that even when all else was forgotten, his heart would always know and remember.

This is what she believed – what she would always believe. It was what she would hold onto.

That and him.

Always.

 

fin


End file.
